197: Chapter 197 Keep a couple more pairs of stockings in the drawer

Jiang Fan sat in his office chair, his fingers sliding across the virtual panel.

A song like "Itchy" could stir up the heat of a concert, but he needed another song to hold the entire stage down and elevate the artistic quality of the whole concert.

He continued to scroll down through Old Huang's playlist.

After flipping through a dozen songs, a name popped out.

[ "puppet play" — Redemption Price: 400 Lifespan Value ]

It was twice as expensive as a normal song. Jiang Fan clicked on the details.

[ Bonus: Professional Opera-style vocal technique + somatic muscle memory ]

Thinking about Su Yuyan's situation, she hadn't studied opera before. No matter how good her vocal conditions were, forcing an Opera-style vocal technique would ruin the song.

But if he passed the technique to her, with her talent, she should be able to pick it up quickly.

He clicked redeem, and the number on the panel jumped.

The lyrics, scores, and Arrangement files for both songs, along with the singing techniques, were all etched into his mind.

Jiang Fan didn't rush to close the panel.

He leaned back in his chair, thinking about the recently finished "journey to the west".

Song Siyi was preparing the physical book, while Vice Chairman Liu Qingshan and his crowd were cursing up a storm online.

Relying solely on readers to argue in the comment section wasn't enough; he needed to add fuel to the fire.

He remembered a song he had heard countless times in his past life and typed two characters into the search bar — Wukong.

[ "Wukong" — Redemption Price: 200 Lifespan Value ]

This was it.

He knew very well how wild this song was in his past life.

The untamed, rebellious, and defiant nature in the lyrics and melody was perfect for slapping Vice Chairman Liu Qingshan in the face.

You say "journey to the west" is cultural trash?

Fine. Then I'll let the whole internet hear what trash tastes like.

Redeem.

Jiang Fan began the Arrangement, working until eight in the evening before finally finishing.

He stood up and pushed open the office door.

He was the only one left in the entire office.

Striking while the iron was hot, Jiang Fan walked into the Recording Studio.

He put on his headphones and adjusted the microphone height.

Images of "journey to the west" flashed through his mind.

The cracked immortal stone on Flower-Fruit Mountain, the five hundred years of solitude under the Five Elements Mountain.

And the faces of Vice Chairman Liu Qingshan and his cronies jumping around online.

The accompaniment music began, with piano and strings laying a somewhat somber foundation.

Jiang Fan started singing.

"Moon splashes the galaxy, the long road is endless. The wind and smoke fade away, a lonely shadow lingers..."

His voice was kept very low, carrying a sense of trapped defiance.

"Calling to the Buddha, looking back there is no shore. Kneeling for a teacher, life and death are irrelevant..."

In the chorus, the emotion surged directly.

"What is the use of this iron rod, so what if I have this ability to change!"

"Still uneasy, still melancholic. The golden hoop on my head, words die on my lips."

In the final segment, Jiang Fan's voice sank to the very bottom, then suddenly exploded.

"Trample the Lingxiao, reckless and unruly. The world is evil and the path is dangerous, ultimately inescapable."

"This strike — calls for your annihilation."

As the last word ended, the reverberation of the final note echoed in the Recording Studio.

Jiang Fan took off his headphones, walked over to the mixing console, sat down, and listened to the playback.

No problems. He exported the file and saved it to a flash drive.

— —

The next morning, Jiang Fan arrived at Qitian Culture's newly rented office.

It wasn't far from his Studio, three hundred square meters, enough for now.

The renovation was very simple, and several new computers were still packed in their boxes.

Song Siyi sat behind the desk.

She was wearing a white shirt paired with a black hip-hugging skirt, flesh-colored stockings on her legs, and black Valentino high heels on her feet.

A pair of gold-rimmed glasses without lenses rested on the bridge of her nose.

Jiang Fan glanced at the empty frames.

"Your nearsightedness is cured, why are you still wearing these?"

"I'm used to it." Song Siyi pushed up the frames. "What do you want with me? I have a meeting with the printing factory boss at four this afternoon to discuss prices."

Jiang Fan didn't speak; he pulled a flash drive from his pocket, placed it on her desk, and pushed it toward her.

"Listen to it before you say anything."

Song Siyi glanced at him and plugged the flash drive into the computer.

She opened the file, put on the headphones, and played it.

The intro to "Wukong" began to ring in her headphones.

Song Siyi had originally been sitting with her legs crossed, leaning back in her chair, but upon hearing the first line of lyrics, she put her legs down.

"What is the use of this iron rod" —

Her fingers stopped on the keyboard, motionless.

After the audio finished playing.

The office was quiet for several seconds.

Song Siyi took off the headphones and looked at Jiang Fan.

"Did you write this song?"

"Yeah. It's the promotional song for "journey to the west"." Jiang Fan turned his chair to face her. "Didn't Vice Chairman Liu Qingshan say we distorted the mythology? Didn't he say it was cultural trash?"

He pointed at the computer screen.

"This song will go live across the entire internet tomorrow."

Song Siyi swallowed.

She had been an editor for five years, and her sensitivity to text and emotion was a cut above the average person.

"What is the use of this iron rod" — this was The Monkey King's unwillingness.

"This strike, calls for your annihilation" — this was a response to all the doubters.

Even if Vice Chairman Liu Qingshan and those old pedants wrote a hundred articles of denunciation, they wouldn't be able to beat this one song combined.

Because words are cold, and music is hot.

"Once this song is released..." Song Siyi's voice was a bit hoarse.

"What's wrong?"

"I think Vice Chairman Liu Qingshan is going to have it pretty rough."

Jiang Fan laughed.

He reached out, pulled Song Siyi up from the boss's chair, and sat down himself.

Song Siyi stood up in her high heels, her body pulled up by Jiang Fan to sit on his lap.

"How did the talks go with the printing factory?"

"Is this how you usually talk about work?" Song Siyi glared at him.

"Two companies are willing to take it. I negotiated the price down; I'm going to sign the contract this afternoon."

"If you don't have enough money, tell me." Jiang Fan's hand rested on her waist.

Song Siyi tilted her head back, struggling to stand up.

"Let go of me, this is an office! The door isn't locked!"

"You're the only employee in this company right now. Who's going to come in?" Jiang Fan lifted her with both hands and placed her on the desk.

Song Siyi's bottom landed on the desktop, her feet off the ground, and her hands instinctively braced against the desk.

Several files on the desk were brushed off, scattering all over the floor.

Jiang Fan reached out, took off the lensless glasses frames from the bridge of her nose, and set them aside.

The hem of her white shirt was pulled out from her hip-hugging skirt and pushed all the way up to her shoulder blades.

The black hip-hugging skirt was flipped up and piled around her waist.

Jiang Fan's fingers hooked the edge of her stockings.

Riiiip —

"Are you crazy! I just bought these yesterday!"

The second half of her sentence was swallowed back.

Song Siyi's fingers gripped the edge of the desk, turning her face away, biting her lower lip to keep from making a sound.

The desk was large, solid wood, and very sturdy.

But the desk legs still made a slight creaking sound.

"Jiang Fan... you... don't go too far..."

Jiang Fan ignored her.

"What did you call me?"

The corners of Song Siyi's eyes were red, her mouth shut tight, refusing to speak.

Jiang Fan paused.

Unable to bear the feeling of being left unfinished, Song Siyi leaned forward.

"...Husband."

Over an hour later.

Song Siyi sat slumped at the edge of the desk, her legs dangling, one high heel lost on the carpet.

She raised her hand to brush aside the loose hair on her forehead; the stockings were already ruined, torn from thigh to ankle.

"I... still have to meet people this afternoon..."

Jiang Fan crouched down, picked up the high heel from the floor, and held her ankle to help her put it on.

"Do you have spare stockings in the drawer?"

Song Siyi shot him a glare.

"Who keeps spare stockings in a drawer?"

Song Siyi was so angry she wanted to kick him, but when she lifted her leg, she didn't have the strength and put it back down.

Jiang Fan patted her shoulder. "The contract signing this afternoon is up to you; I'm going back to handle some other things."

Song Siyi nodded.

Jiang Fan walked to the door and paused again.

"By the way, keep an extra pair of stockings in the drawer from now on."

A folder flew toward him; Jiang Fan sidestepped to dodge it, smiling as he closed the door.